Aspirations
by three-golden-mockingjays
Summary: All mentors have aspirations for their tributes, but none as much as the mentors of the career tributes in the 74th Hunger Games. If they didn't, why would they even bother tolerating each other? A look into the Hunger Games from outside the arena.
1. Chapter 1

**01. Sizing up this year's meat**

Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, Enobaria, Finnick and Mags were a motley group, and one that very rarely agreed on anything at all. Brutus and Enobaria liked to refer to the blondes from District 1 as airheads and Cashmere and Gloss insisted that the antagonistic pairing were psychopaths.

"We've all won the games," Enobaria sighed from her position on the couch, "I think we can agree we're collective psychopaths."

Cashmere rolled her big blue eyes, and Brutus snorted at the prissy way she pursed her lips. Gloss scowled, and redirected his gaze from the admittedly terrifying pair of District 2 mentors to Finnick and Mags, Finnick sprawled in his chair and Mags sitting calmly on the floor at his feet, her legs crossed in a childish fashion. The two from District 4 were the outsiders of the group, but seemed very at ease with their social position amongst the ex-Careers mentoring that year.

"Now Enobaria," Gloss said condescendingly, "You wouldn't call lovely old Mags a psychopath."

Mags didn't move from her position at all, nor did she make any acknowledgement of the comment directed her way. Enobaria bared her pointed, gold-plated teeth, and Gloss once more averted his gaze. Enobaria smiled smugly, and Brutus offered a hand for a high five, which Enobaria took. Finnick snickered from his position in the corner, finally moving his green eyes from the screen.

"You find something funny, pretty boy?" growled Brutus, tensing his muscles instinctively. This was an intimidating gesture, but Finnick brushed it aside with a wave of his hand.

"I know you're insecure about your appearance, Brutus," he said smoothly, "But let's not take it out on those of fairer face."

Cashmere giggled, and Finnick went on.

"What I don't understand," Finnick said calmly, "Is why we hang around together when we all hate each other."

"Because our tributes are in an alliance, you idiot," Gloss scowled.

"What?" asked Finnick sarcastically, "I had absolutely no idea!"

There was silence, until Cashmere said sullenly, "I think we can agree-"

"This doesn't sound realistic," Enobaria interrupted, but Cashmere continued.

"I think we can agree that this year's 'Career alliance' isn't quite up to it's usual standards."

"If you mean your pathetic Glimmer in that, then I agree," Brutus said with a smirk, and Gloss scowled, "Pathetic? Have you seen four?"

All eyes turned to Finnick. His tribute was apparently fourteen, but he looked twelve and as far as Career standards went, was the flop of the decade, "Uh, the volunteer… didn't."

"Why not?" asked Enobaria, "I was watching the reapings, they call this kid, who walks calmly onto the stage, then realises no-one is going to volunteer and has a panic attack. Good first impression for the sponsors, don't you think?" Enobaria smirked, her deadly teeth glinting in the light coming in through the window.

"I don't know," Finnick sighed in frustration, "And he was a bloody star, too. Could have won the whole thing, I reckon," Brutus snorted skeptically, and Finnick went on in a heavy voice, "So now we've got one piece of dead meat. He's not even going to make it into the alliance, is he?"

"Of course he isn't," Brutus replied, "Cato's less than impressed with him, and if Cato doesn't want him in, he's not going to get in."

"Whatever," grumbled Finnick, then shrugged, "Let's look on the bright side. Mags has got quite the tribute ready, don't you?"

Mags said something unintelligible to most of the group, but apparently as clear as day to Finnick, "She says Annika isn't fast. But everything else with her is good, isn't it Mags?"

The old woman man a noise of assent, and after an awkward silence, Cashmere was the next to profess concern for her tribute, "Glimmer isn't fast either. Got crazy endurance, but she's not much of a sprinter. And she hurt her elbow a while back, and she can't shoot properly, even though she says she's fine," Cashmere exhaled sadly, "I don't want my first mentee to die."

Gloss laid a comforting hand on his younger sister's arm, "I'm a little worried for Marvel too. He's smart, and fast, and he is absolutely fantastic with a spear, but I'm worried about his close combat. I'm not confident in his ability with a sword. At all."

"Are you kidding?" Enobaria raised her eyebrows, "Have you seen the length of that kid's arms? His reach is better than Cato's!"

Brutus' face darkened at that comment, but Gloss sighed, "That's exactly the problem. His arms are too bloody long. He can't control them! Well, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but the truth of it is that in close combat he's not as fast and skilled as Cato."

Brutus smiled, but it was a smile that promptly disappeared off his face and was replaced with one of shock when Enobaria opened her mouth and began to confess her fears for her tribute, "Clove's deadly as hell, but she's crazy."

"I thought you said we were all psychopaths before," Cashmere frowned in confusion, "We won it."

"Clove's a different kind of crazy," sighed Enobaria, "Being bloodthirsty is great, but Clove goes further than that. She takes everything personally. She hates everyone with a burning rage. She will kill a person and feel happy that she's gotten rid of just another member of the world she's hated."

Cashmere still looked confused, and so Enobaria went on, "She gets too emotionally caught up in it all. Anger can get you places in the arena, but uncontrolled and constant anger can get you in trouble too. She's smart, but she doesn't tend to think when she's really mad, which is close to always."

Everyone looked expectantly at Brutus, who smiled smugly, "Cato doesn't have any of those flaws. He'll win this year," he said confidently, and Cashmere sighed. A lone tear trickled down her face.

"I'm sorry," she said in a hushed voice, wiping away the tear, "I'm being dumb. I'll be better at this next time."

"You've got to toughen up now Cashmere," Enobaria said sullenly, "You've got to be strong for your tribute," the dark-haired girl shrugged, and added, perhaps as an afterthought, "Even if she doesn't go too well. But come on, she'll get all the sponsors."

Cashmere tapped a long finger against her lips thoughtfully, "How far do sponsors get you though?"

"They got you pretty far," Brutus said snidely, "You were fucking hopeless."

"Cheers Brutus," said Cashmere sullenly, not bothering to fight back. Instead, the young mentor raked a hand through her blonde hair, so that it fell into elegant curls that sat perfectly with very little effort, much to Enobaria's mixture of contempt and jealousy.

"Are you all pretty in District 1?" Enobaria asked eventually, breaking the silence which had grown between the group, "Or is it just the volunteers?"

"Should I be flattered, offended or scared?" Cashmere asked earnestly.

Enobaria pursed her lips. There was something about that District1 mentor, young and fragile, naïve and clearly not too bright, that made Enobaria soften a little, "I understand flattered and offended, but scared? What did I do to scare you?"

Cashmere snorted. Enobaria glared. "Fine," Cashmere tugged a blonde curl pensively, "I was scared that…" she screwed her face up in concentration, "You would use your teeth to pull off my face and have it implanted onto yours," she finished sarcastically, tossing her head.

"Works for me," shrugged Enobaria, "Hey, interviews are starting. You know, the reason we're all sitting together around the TV."

"We don't need a reminder, Enobaria," Finnick muttered, turning to the screen.

* * *

**Hello all!**

**If you've stuck with that chapter long enough to read this: congrats. It wasn't the most riveting chapter, kind of an intro thing. So yay you.**

**Now, I know that it is highly unlikely that the same Career tributes in the 75th Hunger Games were all mentoring in the 74th. I know. Don't hurt me. I just chose to write it like this, because Cashmere, Gloss, Brutus, Enobaria, Mags and Finnick are the characters that we are given. I wrote this story as I study of those given characters, not to make up my own. So forgive me for the unlikely scenario.**

**I wasn't originally going to publish it, so if you don't like it for whatever reason, I won't be offended - I wasn't writing it with crowd pleasing in mind. However, if you don't like, please tell me why because I'd like to keep that in mind. Seriously, a review that says 'too focused on so-and-so, i'm not going to continue reading' I'll be glad just to have that feedback.**

**I think that's all I've got to say, except also that there will be very irregular chapter lengths. This one is probably the longest they'll be, but I foresee some short ones coming through. Just a warning.**

**Thanks for the read! A review would mean the world to me :)**

**xx -L.**


	2. Chapter 2

**02. First impressions and undesirable destinies.**

Caesar Flickerman was initially seen to be introducing Glimmer, who was wearing a very revealing gold dress that clung to her curves and was transparent in patches.

"Oh God," Finnick buried his face in his hands, "Another one."

Cashmere didn't question the District 4 heartthrob. She knew exactly what he meant. All of the mentors this year had had their bodies sold at some point in their miserable, post-Games lives. Some more than others. Cashmere, Gloss and Finnick were generally favourites, and in high demand.

"Well don't you look gorgeous tonight!" Caesar exclaimed, "And I'm told you're as deadly as you are beautiful?"

"You haven't been misinformed, Caesar," Glimmer purred, "I plan on winning these games, and after I do, I think the Capitol would be a great place for me to be."

"We'd be honoured to have you with us, Glimmer."

Glimmer would undoubtedly follow in their footsteps if she was to win.

"I know," agreed Cashmere with a wavering voice, "It just seems like the best way to get her out."

"She won't have much fun once she's out," Finnick mumbled, "We don't."

Cashmere said nothing. Gloss spoke quietly, "Don't make her feel worse, Finnick. It's a nightmare your first time around."

"Sorry," Finnick didn't take his eyes off the screen, but seemed sincere enough, "Well, Marvel's up now."

Marvel was, to put it simply, a charmer. Gloss smiled a little sadly as he watched his tribute win the audience over. He didn't have Glimmer's heart-stopping good looks, but was attractive enough and worked with Caesar like a professional, comic and endearing, cocky and enthusiastic.

"I assume you'll take part in the usual alliance between districts 1, 2 and 4?" Caesar asked the smiling boy.

"Oh, of course," Marvel answered, "It'll be a party," he added sarcastically, and the audience laughed.

"What do you think of the other tributes in that alliance?" Caesar asked with a delicately raised eyebrow.

"I'll have to watch out for the other tributes in my alliance, particularly those nutcases from 2, I suppose," Marvel began reasonably, "But I think I can take them. After all, I am practically twice Clove's height!"

The cameras cut to the brunette waiting to take the stage. She did not look mad, but rather, was smiling evilly.

"I suppose you taught him how to work the interviews, Gloss?" Enobaria lifted her chin so as to look at the tall boy better, "He looks very comfortable."

"Comes naturally to him apparently," Gloss shrugged, "Real charmer at the academy. Everyone loves him," Gloss paused, "Except Glimmer of course. She's always known he'd be her competition."

Enobaria nodded slowly.

"I'll reckon they'll stick together though," Cashmere contributed, "When it comes down to it. They don't like each other all too much, but they hate Cato and Clove," Cashmere smiled weakly at Enobaria, who returned it out of pity.

"Scared of them, I suppose?"

Cashmere nodded.

"These two are the craziest we've had in a while," Brutus agreed, "Craziest since you, Eno."

"Must run in the family," Enobaria said dully, "I'm her cousin. Oh shoosh guys, Clove's on!"

"So Clove," Caesar was saying warmly, "I take it you're ready for the Games this year?"

"Ready and raring to go, Caesar," Clove smiled wickedly, "I've got a bit of a kill list compiled already."

"Very prepared then!" Caesar and Clove laughed in unison, "I don't suppose you could let us know who might be on that list?"

"But that would ruin the surprise, Caesar! I don't think you'll have to wait too long though. I'll get right to it once I'm in the arena." There was something very wrong with Clove's smile.

"What do you have to say about Marvel and his comment about your height before?"

"He's crazy if he thinks that'll stop me. I've been short all my life. I've got hundreds of techniques for killing giants."

"She's nuts," Enobaria buried her face in her hands.

"Plenty of crazy people have won the Games," Gloss said reasonably, "I mean, you won them!"

"I killed both tributes from District 1 personally Gloss, and I'm not hesitating to add you to that list," Enobaria said calmly, "I just hope she comes out."

"Don't we all?" Finnick asked with a tight smile, "Uh oh. Here comes Brutus' golden boy!"

True to Finnick's words, Cato Woods was taking to the stage. All 6'2" of him, with the same confident swagger that his district partner had gone on with.

"Ah, the other half of the District 2 duo!" Caesar exclaimed with delight, "Cato Woods! I've certainly heard a lot about you. You're a favourite for the Games, after all."

"Well I'd certainly hope so," Cato began his interview cockily, and ended it in much the same fashion.

"Looks like your time is up Cato," Caesar was saying warmly, "It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"Well it's a good thing I'll be out in a week or two to talk to you again," Cato grinned, "Once those guys are gone," he added in a stage-whisper as he jerked his head towards the wings.

Brutus and Enobaria high-fived as he made his way off-stage to thunderous applause. The camera followed the blonde killing machine to the wings, where he was seen to high-five his district partner, who looked, as usual, thoroughly unimpressed. Cashmere read her lips.

"Yeah, whatever Cato. Good job."

Mags said something that only Finnick could understand.

"Do you reckon?" he asked his wizened mentor, then turned to Enobaria and Brutus, "Are those two close?"

Brutus shrugged, "They've known each other their whole lives. Done a lot of training together. Really competitive against each other. Clove's obviously not 18 yet, but she volunteered this year because she wanted to beat Cato once and for all."

The mentors from Districts 1 and 4 looked at Brutus blankly.

"I told you," Enobaria said sullenly, "They really are nuts."

"Well there you go Mags," Finnick smiled joylessly, "You were right."

It was difficult for Finnick to sit through his mentee's interview. Jack, the small boy with absurdly curly hair, was a tribute by mistake, and knew he had no chance. Despite what Finnick had tried to teach him, poor little Jack stammered all through his interview, and even broke the golden rule of interviews by professing the certainty of his own doom.

Annika Wade, Mags' tribute, did well to get the crowd moving after such an uninspiring interview before her. A beauty for sure in her red dress, the tall and tanned brunette caught the audience from the start. Now she just had to make herself stand out. This was tricky, as District 1 had taken likeable and District 2 had taken psychotic. Annika did as Finnick had advised, translating for the elderly woman, "Make them want to see you go home."

"So I hear a relative of yours has been in the Hunger Games," Caesar said, "In the first Quarter Quell, in fact. Unfortunately, Markus Wade did not make it home. Does this affect your tactics or mindset going into the Games?"

"My uncle refused to join the alliance between Districts 1, 2 and 4. I won't make the same mistake," Annika began in a determined, self-assured tone, "And anyway, he was killed by a psychotic tribute from District 6. I don't think any of them pose a threat this year. Have you seen them?" she asked jeeringly.

"Do you believe you can win the Games, Annika?" Caesar asked her, "There are some tough tributes out this year."

"Oh, there always are," Annika smiled easily, "I'm not so worried about taking them. I've got the skills, and I've got more motivation to get home than the rest of them combined."

Caesar leaned in, "Care to share?"

"Well, I wouldn't taunt you like that," Annika laughed, "When I get home from the Hunger Games, I'm going to marry my boyfriend," she turned slightly, to look directly into a camera, "Tait, give me ten days. Ten days and I'll be back home, and all yours." With a glittering wink, and a large smile, Annika waltzed off the stage.

Cashmere exhaled, "She was good."

"They were all good," Gloss agreed.

"Except for Finnick's tribute," Enobaria added with a shadow of grin.

Finnick scowled.

* * *

**Thanks to those who reviewed! As predicted, this isn't a massively successful story, but I don't mind too much, and I hope those of you who are reading, are enjoying it. I had fun with this chapter, actually writing the tributes a bit. Also, Markus Wade, who I mentioned briefly in this chapter, was a tribute I submitted to katsparkle13's SYOT Blood of the Betrayed. It's a great fic, and I advise you to check it out. I hope I haven't broken any rules by putting him in here! As usual, any critiques or anything else really would be appreciated.**

**xx - L.**


	3. Chapter 3

**03. The glittering girl with the jumpy stomach.**

"Alright Glimmer," Cashmere took a deep breath, "I know it's kind of scary, but the more sleep you get tonight, the better you'll perform come morning. And the less sleeping you'll have to do around the others," Cashmere added.

The younger blonde nodded, looking into her mentor's eyes, eager for all the advice she could get.

"Would they kill me in my sleep?" Glimmer asked in a tremulous voice, after her look of attention faded away.

"Well, it depends how late in the Games you are," Cashmere answered earnestly, "Typically, the alliance will split up when most of the tributes judged to be serious threats are killed. So in your case, once Thresh and Katniss are gone, I'd get out of there. However, if these guys make it to the last few, and it's just them and you, the alliance will break up anyway. Sometimes it's civil, but most of the time, someone dies during the night and then the rest have the sense to scram."

"I suppose it'll be Cato doing the killing in the night?" Glimmer asked sullenly.

"You never know," Cashmere sighed, "Clove looks pretty scary. I can't read Annika, so watch out for her. Marvel… I doubt it. It doesn't seem like his style, you know? But he might. Never let your guard down," Cashmere paused pensively, "Actually, I think _you_ could benefit from some killing in the night," Cashmere pointed at her tribute as she said this, "Especially if you seduce Cato. If you do succeed in seducing him, he'll be your guard, if only for a little while. Don't kill your guard until Thresh is gone. He's the one I'm worried about. Then go for it. You won't need him anymore."

"That's pretty brutal," Glimmer managed to get out.

"That's how I won it," Cashmere's expression was blank, "You do want to get home, don't you?"

"More than anything," Glimmer's tone was hushed.

"Then get the right people protecting you, don't annoy anyone, take your shirt off to wash it in the river, you know the protocol," Cashmere said apologetically, "I know it sucks."

Glimmer nodded, but didn't say anything. She blinked rapidly. Cashmere sighed, and hugged her mentee tightly, "It'll be okay."

"I don't want to die Cashmere," Glimmer whispered, "I'm scared to die."

Cashmere put her hands on Glimmer's wiry shoulders, so that the girls were an arm's length from each other, "You listen to me, Glimmer Aeren. I'm not going to let you die in that arena. I refuse to let you die."

"Promise?" All of a sudden, the girl who had been so breathtakingly beautiful on the interview night sounded more like a child than anything else.

"Well, you'll have to help me out a bit," Cashmere shrugged, breaking the spell, "But I'll do what I can. I promise."

* * *

**04. The lanky boy who definitely isn't soft.**

"You can win these games Marvel, you know that, right?" Gloss asked.

"Of course I do," Marvel sighed, "I'm just not exactly bursting with excitement to get in there."

"Well just act like it tomorrow," Gloss said gruffly, "Because I'm sure you can imagine where all the sponsors are at the moment."

"Glimmer," Marvel groaned, "If only it weren't a fucking beauty contest."

Gloss snorted, "Do you think Cato and Clove's sponsors are jostling for their good looks? Act fearsome. Act like someone will win. People like your personality, but unless they believe you can kill the 23 other children in that arena-"

Marvel closed his eyes, "Please don't say that."

"Please don't say what?"

"Children."

Gloss groaned, "Are you telling me you're a softie? At this stage? You could have at least given me some warning."

Marvel looked up at his mentor defiantly, "I'll kill them, when it comes down to it. I'll make you proud. Just don't remind me. I don't need to be repeatedly told I'm killing children."

"Fine," Gloss sighed, "Do you want to talk about tactics within the alliance?"

"I have no troubles reading people," Marvel assured his mentor, "I'll be a step ahead."

"Do you want to talk about killing Thresh?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about killing Katniss Everdeen?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk survival tactics?"

"No."

Gloss sighed. He could sense that his tribute was tired, physically and of this conversation. It wasn't going to last much longer, "Death to Cato, okay?"

Marvel stood up, and nodded tiredly, "Death to Cato," he repeated, fist-bumping his mentor and making his way to bed.

* * *

**There you go! I really like writing the District 1 tributes, and I'm pretty excited about doing District 2 next. Should be up pretty soon. **

**xx - L.**


	4. Chapter 4

**05. The wicked girl with a boy looking out for her.**

"So, your first priority at that Cornucopia is getting your hands on some knives," Enobaria seemed to be talking at her blank tribute rather that with her, "But if you don't get them-"

"Don't panic, grab something else and watch your back. Sword, machete, both are good. You can work a spear okay but make that your last option. There will be knives there, there always are. If anyone else tries to get them, kill them. Otherwise, let Cato secure them for you," Clove looked up at her surprised mentor, "We've been over this before," her tone was bored, drawling.

"Sorry," Enobaria said shortly. She'd never liked apologies, "Now, your main enemies outside of the alliance are Katniss and Thresh. I wouldn't rule out Peeta either."

"I bet you Katniss isn't as good as the game-makers make her out to be. Seemed pretty shallow, pretty dumb, on her interview night. I'll kill her just fine. Thresh? He's big. He'll have strength, but no skill. If I don't get him, Cato will. And as for Peeta, well, he wants to join our alliance," Clove shocked her cousin once again, "Says he can find Katniss. Says the love thing is an act."

"Seems extraordinarily dodgy," Enobaria said honestly, "But I'm sure you could take him if he is lying. It could be handy. I've gathered that he's strong, but I doubt he's got as much skill in his whole body that you've got in your right hand."

"That's what I was thinking," Clove agreed, "I've been trying to tell Cato that, but he kept fuming about Peeta making Katniss look good for the sponsors. I mean, I'm mad too, but you've got to move on. Save it for the arena. Anyway, I got an agreement with him, finally. Says he'll take him in if he survives the bloodbath, but if he can't survive that unassisted, he's not worth it. Information or otherwise."

Enobaria smiled. It was unlike Clove to look past her anger at the bigger picture. Usually, she would be like Cato, blind to all reasoning. It looked like Clove had finally grown up, and not a moment too soon.

"You really want to get out of there, huh?" Enobaria asked her young cousin, acknowledging the fact that Clove wouldn't have made this change without reason.

"Of course I do," Clove folded her arms defensively, "I'm not going in there to die a failure. I'm going there to kill Cato. And if I die at that point, I've still done pretty good. But I would like to come out. I do kind of value my life, as miserable as it is."

"What would you do afterwards?" the corners of Enobaria's mouth twitched into a smile, "Without Cato to compete against?"

Clove placed her head in her hands pensively. It was clear she hadn't considered this. After a few moments of quiet though, Clove looked up at her mentor, skin pale next to inky black hair, "I don't know."

* * *

**06. The bloodthirsty boy with a girl looking out for him.**

"What terrain do you reckon it'll be?" Cato asked, completely at ease, sprawled serenely over the couch, his body larger than it was designed for.

"I don't know," Brutus sat down opposite the hulking blonde, "The idea _is_ that we're all clueless."

"Yeah, okay," Cato was distracted again already, "Who'll be the first to die?"

Brutus pondered this, "The cripple from Ten."

Cato scowled, "I hope my first victim's a little more interesting than that," Cato's tone was disparaging, "I hope it's Katniss Everdeen."

"You asked for my honest opinion," Brutus shrugged, "You'll get her later. Or Clove might. She really hates her."

"I'd have to be feeling pretty fond towards Clove to let her have a crack at killing that bitch," Cato laughed.

"You never know how you'll feel in the arena," Brutus shrugged.

"I have never been generous or fond in my life," Cato contributed bluntly. An awkward silence settled between tribute and mentor.

"Do you want to talk plans?" Brutus asked, "I have plenty of advice to give you if you're humble enough to take it."

"I have never been generous or fond or humble in my life," Cato smirked, "I have a plan already, and I'm going to win with it."

"Care to tell me?" Brutus was getting thoroughly fed up with his tribute, despite his bragging to the other mentors.

"I'm going to go in there, get a sword, kill anyone who messes with my alliance, kill Fire Bitch and her boyfriend sadistically, well, Clove might get one of them; then we'll split up, I'll make it to the final two with Clove, then I'll kill her and win our battle," Cato grinned at the disapproving look on his mentor's face, "Okay, the proper version is a lot more detailed and practical than that, but that's the general idea."

"You can win the Hunger Games Cato," Brutus sighed, "I just hope your massive ego doesn't get in the way."

"Oh it won't Brutus," Cato was serious once again, "I'm just messing with you. There's no way I'm dying in there. I've been a fighter all my life. To lose at this point would be the worst thing that could happen. This is my identity. I don't care about Clove or even about Fire Bitch. I'm not going to do anything that will jeopardise my safety."

Brutus looked down at his tribute, chin tilted upwards as he pondered Cato's seemingly honest words. Brutus knew that Cato believed this to be true, but didn't know whether these morals would uphold in the adrenaline of the arena.

"I'm going to let you sleep now," Brutus looked at his watch, "But I'll talk to you in the morning," the hulking man paused in the doorway, "Good luck, mate."

Cato grinned at his mentor, "Luck's for those looking for excuses."

Brutus smiled back, "An academy boy through and through."

* * *

**Well, I didn't like this one as much the last one, but oh well. I've pretty much finished District 4's chapter, so you won't have to wait too long for that. Thanks to whoever has reviewed! You're all really sweet :)**

**xx - L.**


	5. Chapter 5

**07. The nasty girl with not much to lose now.**

"If this is a group meeting," Annika asked from lazy position sitting against the wall, "Then why isn't Jack here?"

Finnick's jaw tightened, but he spoke smoothly, "Jack doesn't see any point in this chat." In actual fact, Jack had locked himself in his bedroom and refused to talk to anyone, but Finnick was much happier announcing his own interpretation.

"Is that because he knows he's going to die?" Annika purposely spoke with a loud, clear voice, so that it carried to Jack's room. Both mentors glared at the brunette, who asked, feigning innocence, "What?"

"What are you hoping to achieve by being so awful to him?" Mags' garbled speech was difficult to understand, but Annika got the general gist.

"I've hardly got much to lose now, do I?" Annika Wade was as manipulative and cruel as she was beautiful with that smirk on her face. A winner for sure.

Finnick rubbed his temples with his fingers. Mags continued to glare reproachfully at Annika, who didn't so much as squirm. This was a girl who had been at the academy almost since birth. A dead mother and a cruel, absent father, her stand in family were the same people who taught her to kill others. The same people who fed her. The same people who talked to her every night. The only way Annika had had two crucial things that were crucial to a child - food and a family - was by pleasing them with her violence. Girls like Annika were the definition of too far gone for salvation. Too far twisted to end up decent. These girls always ended up in the Games. And often, they won.

"Well, if you want to talk tactics," Finnick looked at his watch, "You've got eleven minutes before I've got to leave."

Annika sighed. As much as she detested his air of superiority and act of integrity, (no one good ever won the Hunger Games, after all,) Annika Wade admired the victor, and respected the way in which he had won the Games. Easily. Calmly. Heroically. What she wouldn't give to be adored the way Finnick Odair was…

"Who in the alliance do I have to worry about, do you reckon?"

Finnick smiled tightly, "Glimmer will try to seduce Cato. Clove'll kill her if no one else does. So don't worry about her. Marvel could be a threat, but doesn't seem stand out to me. He can kill at a distance though… you've seen him with those spears. If he's hunting you, hide and ambush him. Stay clear of Cato and Clove. If Clove doesn't have her knives, I guess you could try to take her out, but make sure Cato's not there to save her."

"Why would Cato save her?" a small crease appeared between Annika's eyebrows.

"Oh, they've got some weird competitive thing going. Trying to make it to the final two together. They want to kill each other. Cato won't let anyone kill Clove but him. Clove won't let anyone kill Cato but her. Unless you've got Clove knifeless, on her own, I'd steer clear of those two."

"Alright," Annika took a deep breath, muttering something about the ones from 2 always being nuts, "Thresh? Katniss?"

"From what I've heard, Cato's pretty pissed at Thresh for not joining up with you guys, so he might just get him for you. If the alliance breaks up before he's dead, I'd use your stealth on him as he is massive. I'd try to stop him getting his hands on weapons at the start. Katniss is an interesting one. Keep your eyes out for her. I've heard she can shoot, so let's just hope the arena doesn't favour archers. Best to stop her getting weapons in the beginning too."

"It'll be a breeze," Finnick could tell that Annika didn't believe the words she spoke easily, but both tribute and stand-in mentor knew victory was definitely possible for the girl from district 4.

"Well," Finnick stood up, and deposited a kiss on the top of Mags' head, "I must leave now," he raised his voice so both tributes could hear him, "I'll see you both tomorrow morning before you enter the arena!"

"Where are you going?" Annika asked curiously. Mags laid a hand on her arm warningly. Annika sensed the tension, and repeated her question with much more vindictiveness.

"Where are you going, Finnick Odair?"

"Ah, the glittering world of victor life," Finnick answered, airily and sarcastically. Annika could tell that whatever Finnick Odair was doing, it wasn't as nice as his words suggested, "If you make it out, I'm sure I'll have to teach you all about it."

Annika fell uncharacteristically silent, a small frown on her face.

* * *

**Here's the next chapter! Sorry about not writing in Jack, but I really felt as though he wouldn't want to talk about plans for the Games - he doesn't have any hope, and Finnick hasn't got any aspirations for him. As far as I figured, he wouldn't bother. That chapter was a little weird, and I've been changing up that last bit forever - I thought Finnick might have a little burst of anger and tell Annika about his prostitution, but I decided against it. Was that the right decision to make?**

**Oh well. I've received some great constructive criticism, which I am working on. As well as more of that, I'm also open to any ideas or suggestions. Is there something you want to happen? Whatever you've got to say, I'd love you to drop me a review.**

**xx - L.**


	6. Chapter 6

**08. The blood and the guts and the absence of surprises.**

The bloodbath. This was always an exciting time for the career tributes and their mentors. This was where it all started. This was where the weak, the strong, and the lucky all became apparent, and this was where the sponsor money started flowing in.

As the tributes were lifted onto the grass plain the Cornucopia stood on, Cashmere whispered assurances to herself. Enobaria nodded slowly as she took in the landscape. Woods. A lake. A field of long grass. Hot sun beating out of a cloudless sky. Gloss checked the positions of the tributes. Marvel was next to a boy from six, the one Cato hated, and a redhead from 5. Neither were threats, he decided calmly. A twisted grin was working its way onto Brutus' face. All of these mentors had gone into the Hunger Games with a career mentality. Only some of them had come out with it, and Brutus was one of them. The prospect of bloodshed so close in the future excited him, and he almost wished he was in there himself.

When the gong sounded Clove proved, despite her limited leg length, to be the fastest of the careers, or indeed, any of the tributes. She reached the Cornucopia first and secured three straps of eight knives each. The brunette placed one around her hips, then the other two crossing her body from opposite shoulders in a matter of seconds. Enobaria clasped her hands together, murmuring, "Thank Snow, Heavensbee and Crane, she's got her knives."

Cato, who was on the wrong side of the Cornucopia to grab his favoured sword, grabbed a machete, and got to work straight away. He cut down the boy from District 6, who had apparently stolen his knife during training, or something trivial like that. Brutus grinned, and high-fived Enobaria as Clove killed a boy who tried to reach for the sword Clove knew Cato would want. "They've got each other's backs," Brutus grinned, "That's good. For now."

Cashmere was right about Glimmer - she wasn't fast. However, she was stronger than she appeared, and as it turned out, did have more to her than her looks. Knocking over a boy and lunging past him to grab a long blade, she turned quickly and stabbed him in the chest. "She's off the mark," Cashmere breathed in relief, forgetting the trouble her tribute would be in once she was out of the arena, if she did get out, "She's got a kill."

Marvel had been at a starting point quite close to Clove's, and despite his slightly delayed reaction, quickly joined her at the section of the Cornucopia she was defending from any tributes. "Hey," Gloss watched his tribute say cheerily to the small girl next to him, and shook his head in amusement. Clove spared him about half a second of disparaging look, before turning back to assess the oncoming tributes, a small smile on her face. Clove pushed a tribute over, the boy from District 7, and Marvel was quick to stab him in the gut with a knife. This time, he smiled properly at Clove, who, in the adrenalin, had a change of personality and smiled back. "She doesn't hate him," Gloss celebrated quietly, "That's a start."

Finnick's tribute, the doomed little Jack, had not heeded his mentor's advice. "Oh God," groaned Finnick as Jack not only make the mistake of running towards the Cornucopia, but actually attempted to hide inside it. "Oh God." Finnick hardly flinched as Cato stabbed him with his machete, but his fingernails dug into the couch. "Oh well," Finnick's green eyes dimmed a little as he sighed.

Annika was holding her own, lightweight sword in hand, but did not have many tributes in her part of the Cornucopia, some seeing her and promptly changing direction. She didn't really have an opportunity to showcase her deadliness, but at least, as Mags stated and Finnick clarified, "She's not gonna be a bloodbath tribute."

"Alright," Cato's voice boomed as it became apparent that the last tributes around the Cornucopia were all part of the career alliance, "Get over here, everyone. We need to compile our stock."

Clove handed Cato the sword she had defended, ranting angrily about how she had been so close to killing that bloody girl on fire, who'd blocked the knife with her backpack. Cato smiled smugly, and Clove glowered. Glimmer and Annika argued over whether a dagger they were inspecting was designed for left-handers or not, and Marvel twirled a spear he'd finally managed to get his hands on, stabbing imaginary tributes. Peeta Mellark, who had escaped the bloodbath with moderate injuries, hovered awkwardly on the edge, alongside a timid boy from District 3, who had made promises to protect the supplies.

As the afternoon wore on, Glimmer was given the task of putting a meal together, while Cato and Clove sparred viciously and Annika taught Marvel how to make nets. Peeta and the boy from District 3 didn't speak, but sat together out of necessity. Safety in numbers. When the Capitol seal appeared in the sky, followed by the faces of the dead tributes, the career tributes celebrated like children, cheering and high-fiving as their kills were displayed.

"Well," Enobaria sat up a little straighter as she addressed her fellow mentors, "No surprises there."

* * *

**And the Games have now begun! How was that chapter? I kind of felt like some of the paragraphs were too long, but I wasn't sure where to break them up. Would you prefer I break them up or not? Also, if there are any ideas or requests for things to happen as the story goes along, while I won't deviate much from the storyline, there's plenty of scope to add in scenes, whether with the mentors or the tributes. As usual, thanks for reading!**

**xx - L.**


	7. Chapter 7

**09. A sad loser and a sore winner.**

"Go home fish boy!" Brutus roared. The hulking man had been drinking, and was thrilled with the day's events, "Your tribute's dead!"

"Sorry Brutus," Finnick did not grant Brutus the respect of his gaze, keeping his eyes focussed on the electronic tablet in his hand, "I can't hear you over the waves of sponsor money pouring in for Annika."

"Annika's not your tribute mate," Brutus growled, "You're redundant, pretty boy."

"As much as I'd love to get out of here," Finnick pulled at an eyebrow in frustration, "I'm required in the Capitol. And so, I'm sticking with Mags, even if she is unfortunate enough to have to spend time with you."

Brutus had already changed his focus, he was now bending down so as to talk to Enobaria, who was curled up on a couch, "Did you see Cato get those two boys in the bloodbath? It was like, two in two minutes!"

"We've heard this all already," Enobaria placed her hands over her ears, "I'm going to get rid of all the alcohol in our cabin. I forgot what a nightmare you turned into while drunk."

"Not as bad as that Haymitch Abernathy," pointed out Cashmere reasonably, "Did you see him at the reapings?"

"Complete fiasco," Enobaria agreed, turning her face away from Brutus' stinking breath, "And Brutus, I think you'd do well to remember that Clove's had as many kills as Cato so far."

Brutus mumbled something about lucky throws, and that she failed to kill Katniss Everdeen.

"So did Cato," Enobaria shrugged, "They'll get her later. Clove hates her more than she hates Glimmer."

Cashmere buried her face in her hands. The fact that the deadly fifteen year old from District 2, who had received the same score as the terrifying Cato, had it in for her tribute, did not bode well for the blonde.

"Sorry Cashmere," Enobaria mumbled under Gloss' reproachful gaze, "I shouldn't have brought it back up. But seriously, you should have told Glimmer to stop flirting with Cato."

"Flirting worked for me," Cashmere said in a wavering voice.

"Yes, but in your year, the District 2 female hated her district partner, so it was all okay."

"Are you saying Clove loves Cato?"

Enobaria snorted, "God no. But she kind of thinks he belongs to her. He's her kill, apparently, and that means that no one else gets to mess with his mind."

"Seems kind of messed up," noted Gloss.

"You don't say," Enobaria raised her eyebrows.

There was silence once more, as the six mentors watched the six career tributes make their way through the dark forest. Peeta seemed to be chanting a personal mantra under his breath. Glimmer knocked her head against a tree branch. Clove laughed. Glares were exchanged. Marvel laid a hand on his district partner's arm in a calming gesture, and Cato did the same. Both girls shrugged their male counterpart's hands off. Annika gave a huff and pushed through the two pairings, muttering about lovebirds. Four pairs of eyes glared at the leggy brunette.

"Bloody hell!" Finnick groaned, "Didn't we tell her, Mags? The last thing we want her to do is annoy one of them. And now she's annoyed them all."

Mags looked up despondently at the tired man who was like a son to her, shrugging a little sadly.

The tributes eventually became as quiet as their mentors, until Clove's sharp eyes picked up what all the mentors, with the myriad of cameras to aid them, had already seen.

"Excellent," the youngest and smallest of the career pack smiled wickedly, "We've got us a fire."

Cato and Clove, for all their insanity, worked together well, almost reading each other's minds. After training with and against each other for years, it had to be expected. While the other four tributes stood off to the side, Clove snuck up behind the sleeping girl with silent feet. Exchanging excited eye-contact with Cato, the two nodded and Clove shook the girl awake, who promptly screamed. Cato grinned a bizarre grin to match that of his district partner, then stabbed into the girl's gut. A victorious high-five echoed through the arena.

"Let's keep moving."

"She's not dead," Enobaria said, as though her tribute could hear her, "Turn around, she's not dead yet."

The career tributes continued to walk, and Enobaria buried her face in her hands. The District 8 girl was weak and certainly incapable of surviving much longer or hurting any of the career tributes, but it frustrated Enobaria to see a job go unfinished.

That was when the mentors, and all the Capitol, saw it. Katniss Everdeen, the highest scoring tribute, strapped into a tree not twenty metres away from where the careers stood. She was listening to their conversation, which had now turned into an argument about whether the girl was dead or not, eyes wide with fear.

"Forget about the girl from 8 Cato!" Brutus was bellowing, red-faced, at the screen, "That bitch is just to your left!"

Finnick rolled his eyes, "You might want to yell a bit louder Brutus," he said sarcastically, "Just to make sure he hears you."

But if Brutus was loud then, it was nothing to when Katniss Everdeen decided to drop a nest of tracker jackers on the sleeping career tributes.

* * *

**I think I might have just left you on a bit of a cliffhanger. I don't know why, but this chapter was really fun to write. I hope you enjoyed reading it! Obviously not all too much happened in this chapter, unless you count Glimmer nearly concussing herself on a tree; but I'm sure you can imagine lots will happen in the next one. The mentors will definitely go nuts... Anyway, as I probably won't be updating in the next two days, a big MERRY CHRISTMAS to my readers who celebrate it. The next chapter will hopefully be up soon. Have a good one!**

**xx - L.**


	8. Chapter 8

**10. Two more losers and a bucket of tears.**

"Katniss is going to drop a nest of fucking tracker jackers on our tributes and Glimmer is asleep!" Enobaria shrieked as Cashmere drew back from the livid woman, hands over mouth.

"I'm sorry," Cashmere tried to hold in tears, but was already hyperventilating, "Can we send them something? I've got money."

"She was meant to be the guard!" Enobaria was beside herself.

"There's nothing we could send them," Finnick shook his head as he scrolled through pages of goods, "Except for a good warning, but that's not allowed."

On the large screen, Katniss Everdeen had started sawing the branch that held the tracker jacker nest. Not one of the tributes slumbering underneath the tree stirred.

Enobaria was close to pulling her hair out, "How can they be sleeping so deeply?" she asked desperately.

"Arrogance," Gloss answered softly, not taking his eyes off the screen.

One lone tracker jacker left the hive and stung Katniss on the cheek, causing the tense mentors a moment of relief, and a brief smile shared all around. None of the people in that room were fans of Katniss Everdeen.

"Maybe they'll go for Katniss instead of our guys," Gloss said hopefully, clutching his sister's trembling hand.

However, they had no such luck. The large nest crashed through the branches, and finally hit the ground not a metre from Annika's head. A resounding crunch sounded as it split in two. A horde of perhaps hundreds of wasps emerged from its papery centre and launched themselves at the scrambling tributes. These wasps were both mad and deadly, and there were a lot of them. Golden like Glimmer's interview dress.

"If my tribute dies because yours fell asleep…" Enobaria was shrill, but she needn't have worried.

Clove was the first to move, and surprisingly, Glimmer was the second. The two girls were poised to run, Cashmere poised to breathe a sigh of relief, when Clove swiftly kicked Glimmer's feet out from under her and proceeded to sprint away, the three boys at her heels.

"Well," exhaled Enobaria, "She really does hate her."

Annika, who had been closest to the nest, was staggering in the direction the other tributes in her alliance were running towards, but didn't look as though she'd make it. Glimmer, still on the ground, was in hysterics, surrounded by a good half of the tracker jackers.

The cannon sounded.

"To the lake!" Marvel was screaming, either unaware of or untroubled by his district partner's demise, "We'll be safe in the lake!"

"I wonder who gets credit for that," Enobaria mused, refreshing the main page to check the statistics, "Clove or Katniss."

Cashmere was too distraught to be angry or shocked by Enobaria's callous words, instead burying her face in her brother's shoulder as he stroked her back without moving his eyes from the screen, murmuring to himself, "Run Marvel, fucking run… your legs are the size of Clove for God's sakes!"

Four career tributes - Clove, Cato, Marvel and Peeta Mellark - made it to the lake, submerging themselves while the furious wasps that had chased them hovered above tentatively. Clove, who probably had the smallest lungs, was the first to break the surface, and was stung on the forehead before she submerged herself again. By the time the rest surfaced, the tracker jackers were gone.

By this point, both Clove and Marvel were barely capable of walking, their bodies perhaps taking the poison worse than those of Peeta and Cato. Cato was furious, possibly the reason for his surprising strength even with four tracker jacker stings, and ran into the woods. There was no question as to his destination. The surprise was when Peeta followed him, even overtaking the disoriented career on his way back to the clearing where Katniss was trying desperately to take the bow from Glimmer's grotesquely swollen corpse.

"Oh he is not…" Brutus looked almost as furious as his tribute. Peeta, as predicted, proceeded to warn Katniss of the rapidly approaching killing machine.

"Run!" the blonde boy was saying, "Get out of here! Go!"

Cato burst into the clearing a moment too late, Katniss was too far away now for Cato to kill her. Peeta, however, was another story.

The poison was apparently finally taking its effect on both of the boys. Peeta didn't look in much shape to run from Cato, and Cato didn't look to be in much shape to attack him. The dizzy giant, however, did manage to send one potentially fatal cut into Peeta's upper thigh. Brutus grinned. He knew this wouldn't kill immediately, but the cut had gone through to the bone for sure. No one, especially not a baker from twelve, was going to survive that. Not in these games.

As Cato staggered back and collapsed onto the sand next to Clove and Marvel, Brutus, Enobaria and Gloss breathed a sigh of relief. Mags and Finnick stared at the ground glumly, holding tanned hands. Mags murmured quietly and unintelligibly into Finnick's ear, which made him smile sadly and hug her tightly. Cashmere continued to cry hysterically, unable to control her rapid breaths. Her nose ran, those captivating blue eyes turned puffy, her body became hunched over. It was as though the mentors were watching Cashmere shrink, rapidly deteriorating into a child.

"Alright Cashmere," Finnick prised the blonde off her brother, who was already conversing rapidly with Brutus and Enobaria.

"Is it likely that someone will attack them? They're vulnerable now. Shit, I'm worried," Gloss hadn't been this caught up in the Games in the three times he'd mentored. It was as though he was back in the arena now, living it for himself. His crying sister seemed miles away.

"Who's around?" Enobaria asked, looking at the electronic maps on her tablet that mentors were granted.

"No one who could do any damage, just the redhead," Brutus pointed out, but even he did not sound as arrogant and confident as he usually did, "She wouldn't try. Would she?"

"Cashmere?" Finnick repeated, seemingly in a separate world to the three mentors so on edge.

Finnick had always felt a sort of closeness to Cashmere, whether it was because both of them hated it all so much, or because they both bore the same curse of being attractive and powerless in the Capitol, or a mixture of both.

"Come on, they'll probably want to interview you soon, you know how awful they are… let's get you cleaned up and camera ready, just take some deep breaths. She doesn't have to go through anything else now, just think of that. Oh come on, your eyes will be puffy for hours… Mags, do you want to come with us? Look Cashmere, you can't be seen like this, it's not good for you or your tri-"

"Nothing's good for my tribute any more Finnick," Cashmere said hollowly, but allowed herself to be led away.

* * *

**Well I just killed two characters. Hmm. It had to happen - I'm keeping it canon. Thoughts on the chapter? I felt like I had some really large paragraphs in that one, so if you feel like I should be splitting them up, then let me know. Also, do you guys want Finnick, Mags and Cashmere to make later appearances? Or do I kick them out?**

**xx - L.**


	9. Chapter 9

**11. Preparing to deliver.**

Cashmere, unfortunately true to the dumb blonde stereotype, had never been very good at school. This hadn't been a problem for her - a star at the Academy - but now that she was in a world far too dangerous and too big for the Academy to help, she wished she was at least passable at writing speeches.

_Glimmer was unlucky in a lot of ways. I think she definitely had the talent to win. However, in order to win, you need both talent and luck, and Glimmer missed out on that second thing._

Second 'thing'? Cashmere groaned audibly at her difficulty in finding the right words.

"What's a synonym for 'thing'?" Cashmere asked aloud, and Gloss rolled his eyes.

"Cash," his voice was muffled, his mouth full of banana, "You've got to be joking."

Cashmere groaned once more, and held the sheet of paper up. It was covered in scrawled handwriting and crossed out sentences. Gloss took it out of his sister's hand, reading it pensively as he finished his banana. Eventually, he took the pen from his sister's hand, made a correction, and handed it back.

_Glimmer was unlucky in a lot of ways. I think she definitely had the talent to win. However, in order to win, you need both talent and luck, and Glimmer missed out on the latter._

"The latter," Cashmere said slowly, "Of course."

"You've got a lot of writing to do, little sis," Gloss pointed out, "You can't blame Clove's hatred for Glimmer as bad luck. Talk about the dynamics within the alliance. They'll love that. It'll give them something to talk about later. What a bitch Clove is, the relationship between the tributes from two, etcetera, etcetera..." With that, the tall blonde made his way to the door.

"Wait!" Cashmere yelped, "You have to help me!"

"No," Gloss corrected, "I have to go see if my tribute's waking up any time soon. I also have to see if anyone is going to attack my tribute. I also have to monitor the sponsor mo-"

"I get it," Cashmere growled. While the brother and sister generally got along well, sometimes one would get stuck in the career mentality and leave the other behind. Now was one of these times. Gloss' mind was with his tribute, and Cashmere's was with hers. The problem was that their tributes were in very different places. Marvel and Glimmer required different kinds of attention.

Gloss sighed, "You can come to the viewing room too. Write the answers to the questions there. Mags and Finnick are."

"Fine," Cashmere stood up, her bad mood persisting, "I will."

"Finnick will tell you what to write," Gloss said in a casual tone, "He's written plenty before. Mags, I imagine, would be even better. Except she doesn't like you much, does she? She doesn't really like any of us, except for Finnick. Finnick likes you though… hey, have you ever thought of pursuing a relationship with_ Finnick Odair_?" Gloss grinned, taking a break from his concern to cheer up his sister.

"No," Cashmere said decisively. Finnick may have been a heartthrob, but he always seemed either melancholy, superior, or emotionally absent. Sometimes he was nice to her, but the rest of the time he was… not for her.

"Where have you two been?" Brutus snapped as the blondes re-entered the room.

"Since when have you cared?" Gloss copied Brutus' tone, sitting down in his usual spot.

"Since he got bored with the events of the Games and wanted someone to tease," Finnick said matter-of-factly from his corner where he sat with a pen in hand, "Are you writing too Cashmere?"

"Yes," Cashmere grumbled, "Are you any good?"

"Oh I'm marvellous," Finnick took the paper from Cashmere, but even as his words radiated bravado, he seemed distracted and a little sad, "Okay Cashmere, I'm going to write a bit about the dynamics in the alliance, you see, the commentators will love th-"

"I've heard," Cashmere snapped, sleep deprived and mad at pretty much everything. She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the couch.

Mags said something unintelligible, and Finnick agreed, "I know! Can you believe she's snapping at me when I am writing her speech?"

"I just would really rather not deliver it," Cashmere groaned, eyes still closed.

"It only has to be a minute or two. Then be prepared to answer questions," Enobaria explained, finally tired of watching the screens where really not much at all was happening, "Honestly, it's nothing to whinge about."

"Clove's definitely someone who must be watched," Finnick said aloud as he wrote it out, "She's the first career tribute to betray a fellow member of the alliance, but no one knows that she essentially killed Glimmer - this means perhaps the career tributes aren't as wary as they should be. If she's done it once, she'll do it again…That's a nice grim note to end on, I think."

"Thank you Finnick," Cashmere mumbled, reading through the speech.

Half an hour later, Cashmere stood in the wings to that awful stage, a plastic smile frozen onto her face. She could hear Finnick and Mags going over their speech behind her. Taking a deep breath, she took to the stage, where Caesar Flickerman was waiting.

"Pleasure to see you again Caesar," she gushed.

"Right back at you Cashmere," he smiled warmly, "Isn't she great?" he roared towards the audience, "Haven't you missed her?"

There was an affirmative cheer from the audience. Frozen smile still in place, Cashmere wondered how the audience could love someone who killed other children. Someone who couldn't even save the one entrusted to her.

"Now," Caesar switched to a graver tone, and Cashmere quickly took the smile off her face, "Unfortunately your tribute passed away early this morning. Glimmer Aeren was a beautiful girl with so much potential and life in her… what do you think went wrong?"

Cashmere thought of the speech she'd spent the last half hour memorising, and opened her dry mouth, "Glimmer was unlucky in a lot of ways. I think she definitely had the talent to win. However, in order to win, you need both talent and luck, and Glimmer missed out on the latter."

Caesar nodded, and Cashmere continued.

"It wasn't just bad luck though, even though that had a say in Glimmer's fate. I have to acknowledge the wit and skill of Katniss Everdeen, the female tribute from District 12-"

A cheer rose up from the audience.

"And then there was the factor of Clove's betrayal. Glimmer and Clove never got along, perhaps because Glimmer was trying to form a bond with Cato, which would have helped her later in the Games. Clove views Cato as her personal enemy I think, and didn't want anyone else, especially not Glimmer, messing with him."

Caesar's lips curved into the smile and the audience was quiet. Cashmere knew she had given the audience something good. Clove would be analysed to death from now on.

"Clove's definitely someone who must be watched," Cashmere went on, "She's the first career tribute to betray a fellow member of the alliance, but no one knows that she essentially killed Glimmer - this means perhaps the career tributes aren't as wary as they should be. If she's done it once, she'll do it again."

"Ah yes," Caesar agreed, "You make a good point there. In the chaos of the tracker jacker attack cast upon the alliance by the ingenious Miss Everdeen-" more cheering from the audience, "-no member of the alliance witnessed what happened to Glimmer, and if they did, they won't remember it now. Perhaps they don't know how dangerous Clove can be."

"I'm sure they'll figure it out soon enough Caesar," Cashmere assured him, thinking that Enobaria had better thank her for backing up her tribute so much.

"I'm sure they will," Caesar turned away from Cashmere and towards the crowd, "Now the time has come to thank Cashmere for bringing in such a great tribute. Glimmer Aeren was a brave, strong and beautiful girl who fought well and honourably. I don't think we'll ever forget the way she glowed on interview night, will we folks?"

Another cheer from the crowd. Caesar turned back to Cashmere, "Thank you for your tribute, Cashmere."

"Thank you Caesar," Cashmere's smile threatened to splinter and fall off her face, "I would like to thank the Capitol for it's generosity in giving Glimmer this opportunity," this was the worst bit, the hardest to say. But this was the only mandatory part, "It didn't work out the way she or her family envisioned, but I know she enjoyed what time she had in the Capitol."

Cashmere walked off to the roaring cheers of the live audience who camped out in front of the stage on the days their favourite tributes died, wanting to say goodbye in possibly the most twisted way possible. As she passed Finnick and Mags, who were on their way to give their speech, they looked at her warily. It took her a moment to realise why. That fake smile was still plastered to her face. It had only been a minute or two, but she'd already forgotten how to be Cashmere, not this fake girl everyone wanted her to be.

* * *

**Sorry - that was a really weird chapter. Sorry about the break between chapters as well. I got really lazy all of a sudden. Let me know what you think of that chapter, because I'm not sure whether that was any good or not. Oh well. The next chapter shouldn't take nearly as long to get up as this one did.**

**Oh, and happy New Year everyone!**

**xx - L.**


	10. Chapter 10

**12. Sharing fears, hallucinations and a heart to heart.**

Gloss had been worried about his tribute's ability to secure sponsors, not as striking as his allies, but they finally began to give in earnest when the tall boy woke from the hallucinations a good day before his rather more terrifying partners.

Brutus and Enobaria breathed a sigh of relief as Marvel grimly picked up his spear and sat up, clearly intending to guard the two uncharacteristically vulnerable tributes from District 2. The boy from District 3 had been sitting there as a guard, not having gone on that disastrous hunting trip with them. He had a spare spear of Marvel's in hand, sharp and deadly, but none of the mentors had had all too much faith in the scrawny fifteen year old. Marvel's presence was so much stronger.

The duo from District 2 were suffering seriously from the hallucinations, as they were the recipients of the most stings. Marvel had made the mistake of trying to approach Clove, who was screaming, her eyes squeezed shut, rolling from side to side. Of course, Clove never parted from her knives. After getting too close to the small girl's thrashing form, Marvel ended up with a cut to his forearm, shallow but painful, that he made the boy from 3 patch up for him. Cato was quieter, but every now and then, struck the ground violently. The boy from District 3 jumped every time.

"How long until they kill him, do you reckon?" Cashmere asked in a surprisingly calm voice. The blonde seemed disconnected now, choosing to stay with her brother rather than face the trauma alone, "They've got the bombs installed. What more can he do?"

"I think they like him as a guard," Gloss spoke in measured tones, "Makes them feel more secure, even though no one could really get past the mines. They'll get him soon though, if he doesn't have the sense to scram. I reckon one more successful hunting trip after those two wake up."

"Poor guy," Cashmere commented. She sounded sincere, but without pain. Reflective. Now that her tribute was deceased and the awful speech giving was over, she finally managed to become unattached.

Cato was the next to wake. Brutus grinned at Enobaria's less than pleased expression. "Look who's the weakling," he grinned cruelly, and Enobaria scowled.

"Cato'll wait for her," Enobaria grinned back, her expression equally as malignant, "One of his greater human flaws."

Gloss smiled to himself. Perhaps his unremarkable, but conveniently unattached tribute would have a good chance after all. Marvel wasn't looking out for anyone, for twisted reasons or otherwise.

"Is she okay?" Cato asked with a forehead creased with worry, "Was I like that?"

"Pretty much," Marvel said dully as the large boy sat next to him. Cato was not as tall as him, but much more filled out, "She's still unkillable though," Marvel showed Cato his arm, and the blonde laughed.

"That's what happens if you try to kill Clove. She'll beat you in her sleep."

"I wasn't trying to kill her," Marvel protested, disgruntled, "I was going to see if I could help her. She was screaming and rolling around and stuff. Even worse than now. It was getting kind of annoying," Marvel made sure to add a touch of callousness to this statement.

Cato still found this amusing, "She was unconscious and she cut you!"

"Oh, grow up Cato," Marvel rolled his eyes.

"Whatever, Marvel," Cato mimicked Marvel's action, then paused, "So how much longer do you reckon she'll be?"

Marvel shrugged, "She had the same amount of stings as you. A nice healthy four," Marvel grinned wryly, "I got off with two. But considering she's a hell of a lot smaller than you… who knows? Do you know much about her immune system? Her brain?"

"Immune system? Clove's tough as nails," Cato said dismissively, all concern gone, "She'll kick it in a few hours."

There was a pause between the two boys.

"I wonder what she's seeing," Cato said, apparently to no one.

"I don't know," shrugged Marvel, "What did you see?"

Cato leaned back slightly, defensive in his posture, "What did you see?"

Marvel seemed more comfortable with his vulnerabilities than Cato. "Well for starters," the tall boy frowned as he tried to think back to the blurry horrors, "I died several times in several awful ways. Lots of fun," Marvel's blue eyes looked expectantly at Cato.

Cato grunted in affirmation, "Me too."

"And then my house burned down and my family died… oh and I got eaten by bears. That was exciting," Marvel spoke easily and jokingly of these horrors, despite how awful they'd been at the time, "I think there was some murder of my baby sister. Oh, and I think I was also eaten by cockroaches at some point."

"Wait, you're scared of cockroaches?" Cato asked with a laugh.

"I am now," Marvel took this well, "But as you're so hesitant to share, I'm going to doubt that you have much ground to stand on here."

Cato ignored this provocation, "I don't think cockroaches eat people," he said pensively.

Marvel rolled his eyes, "Tell that to the tracker jackers. You feeling keen to share?"

Cato ignored this third invitation, instead gazing at the ground in front of them where Clove rolled back and forth, giving the occasional yelp or whimper, "You've had to deal with this for how long?"

"I woke up yesterday," Marvel answered, looking down at his hands, "You get used to it after a while."

There was silence between the two tributes until Marvel asked, "Want some food?"

"I would, actually," Cato stood up, then sat back down again, a hand clutching his temple.

"Still dizzy?" Marvel asked, and Cato nodded slowly, before letting out a yell.

"You! D3!"

The skinny boy jumped, the spear clattering from his hand.

"We're letting him guard?" Cato asked disparagingly of Marvel, who shrugged. Cato then turned back to the shaking tribute, "Go get us some food."

At that point, Enobaria too was helping herself to food, in the heart of the Capitol. Brutus had accused her of leaving the viewing room because she didn't like seeing her tribute suffering, but Enobaria dismissed that. She was bored, more than anything. Sick of these people already. When she re-entered the room, apple in hand, she began to hate them even more.

"How's Clove doing?" she asked instinctively.

"Still shit," Brutus answered smugly.

"Excellent," Enobaria answered sarcastically in a crisp tone.

"Do you feel more attached to her than your past tributes?" Gloss asked out of the blue.

Enobaria put down her apple, "I guess so," the usually calm murderess was uncomfortable, "I mean, I grew up with her. I'll do whatever I can to get her out, and if she doesn't make it… I guess I'll move on. We're just cousins. Not sisters."

Cashmere, who had been quiet for a while, cleared her throat, "I liked Glimmer. She reminded me of me."

Gloss rubbed his sister's hand comfortingly, "It was a sad way to go."

Cashmere nodded, "She was so pretty."

"There's more to life than being pretty," Enobaria said bluntly, "I don't think Glimmer's swollen face was great tragedy there."

"Of course it wasn't," Cashmere's voice was hushed, "It's just easier to think of it that way. The great tragedy is that she was eighteen. And that she loved being alive. And that no one will remember her. These games are really shit depressing, you know."

"They won't remember her here," Gloss added to the conversation, "There'll be plenty more pretty girls in golden dresses from District 1. But who really cares what these technicolour freaks think? They think it's a good idea to kill 23 kids every year. People will remember her at home. Those are the people that count."

"I don't want them to remember her for the wrong reasons," Cashmere sounded sulky, "Being pretty isn't all she was. It's not all that I am."

"You could be remembered for worse things," Enobaria picked at a pointed tooth.

"Point taken," Cashmere offered a weak smile.

Brutus, who had copied Enobaria and left the room for food, returned with a scowl on his face, "You lot done with your heart to heart?"

"Hardly," Gloss smiled benignly at the hulking man, and lied, "We've only just begun."

* * *

**Okay, chapter done! This one was kind of hard to write - I didn't want to make the 'heart to heart' too OOC, so I've done what I can. I did enjoy writing the career tributes though, and I think you'll see more of them in the chapters to come. I'm going away on Friday for 12 days, so I won't be able to put up any chapters during that time. I will, however, probably put one more chapter up before I go, so look out for it.**

**Also, I know Mags and Finnick weren't in this chapter, because I originally wrote it without them and then couldn't find a way to introduce them back in. Don't worry. You will see them later on.**

**Reviews are always appreciated!**

**xx - L.**


	11. Chapter 11

**13. Bomb Boy and Sparkles.**

Predictably, Clove was in a bad mood when she woke up from three days of hallucinations. More so, when she realised she was the last to wake. If there was anything Clove hated, it was feeling weak, and that's how she felt when she woke to see the three boys sitting around her.

"Morning Clove!" Cato said brightly and rather smugly.

Enobaria grinned herself as Clove picked leaves from her hair with a disapproving frown, ignoring her district partner, and scratched dried blood off her knife, checking herself for nicks.

"Did I cut someone?" she asked calmly.

Marvel raised his arm in the air wordlessly. The long limb was still wrapped in a stained bandage.

"Good," Clove said shortly as she made her way to the lake with the intentions of washing herself off.

Marvel scowled, "She's a piece of work," and received no support whatsoever from Cato, who seemed to think that Clove had said something very funny. The tall boy groaned.

"I agree," the voice, initially unfamiliar, came from the doorway. After a few moments, the mentors matched to the voice to a victor they hated, "She is a piece of work. I'm going for your tribute, Gloss."

"Go away Johanna," Cashmere sighed without needing to look up.

Johanna Mason, who had been walking through the corridor and taken the opportunity to annoy the victors she hated so much, sighed, "Fine."

"She's weird," Cashmere said fervently, and Enobaria nodded in agreement.

"Hey Finnick," she called over to the man sitting quietly in the corner, asking for a fight as her golden teeth flashed, "Aren't you going to defend her? You're friends with Johanna," she said accusingly.

Finnick sighed, "The lengths you go to in order to get me worked up are ridiculous, Enobaria. But if it would make you feel better, Johanna is actually much more interesting that you headcases."

Enobaria began to retaliate, then gave up with a sigh. Finnick was talking to Mags once more.

On the screen, Cato and Clove also seemed to be in deep discussion of something or other. Marvel sharpened his spear, sitting on a log, looking up every now and then at the two domineering tributes.

"What are you looking at Sparkles?" Clove asked maliciously, and Marvel ducked his head, hiding a scowl.

He answered Clove's taunt in a joking tone, "Just making sure you're not plotting my death just yet."

Clove smiled sadistically, "Not just yet."

"Excellent," Marvel said sarcastically, turning back to his spear.

Whatever argument Clove and Cato had been having, Clove won, making her point by saying, "And it wasn't me who fell out of a tree and almost broke his neck trying to catch Katniss Everdeen."

Marvel looked at the duo with a mixture of exasperation and disbelief on his face, "Oh, you've got to be kidding…"

"He's starting to look like the outsider of the group," Brutus pointed out with a smile, looking for Gloss' reaction out of the corner of his eye.

"Correction, the District 3 boy is the outsider of the group," Gloss retaliated, "Marvel didn't just let his 5'4" district partner tell him what to do, so you can shut up now."

"That's because Marvel doesn't have a district partner any more because she was too-"

Cashmere looked from her brother to the brutish man from District 2, daring him to criticise her tribute. After her fiery glare subsided, she lowered her voice to a soft, fragile tone, "Can you not fight? Please?"

Enobaria looked at Cashmere for a few moments, as though deep in thought. Finally, Enobaria opened her mouth to ask, "How come you act so fragile and peaceful and weak? You won the Hunger Games. I saw you. I saw you kill the boy from District 2 in his sleep with a wicked grin on your face. I saw you talk him into killing your district partner for you. I saw you at the bloodbath, chopping people down with those two swords. But I don't see that anymore."

Finnick groaned. Cashmere froze. Gloss glowered. Enobaria held up her hands in a protestation of her own innocence, "I wasn't trying to stir up trouble and upset you. I'm genuinely curious."

"Well it certainly sounds like-" Gloss began, but Cashmere cut him off.

"At first they thought I was in shock, after the Games. But it never ended," a small, confused frown was present on Cashmere's face, "In the arena, it was easy. But after I got out, it became real."

There was silence after that. No one knew how to respond to Cashmere's painful honesty, and so the mentors turned their attention back to the screen, where Clove, Cato, Marvel and even the District 3 boy, were embarking on a hunt.

"Look at him," snorted Enobaria, pointing to the scrawny boy with the ashen skin, "He can't even hold a spear properly. His grip's all stuffed up. I can't believe we let him in. Beetee can't either, I was talking to him yesterday and-"

"I give him two days," Finnick contributed, "My God, his neck's about the width of Cato's forearms…"

Over those aforementioned next two days, the career tributes combed the woods, only finding one tribute, the cripple from District 10. As Gloss said, it was a miracle he'd survived this long, hidden near the river that the career tributes had followed through the forest.

"Shit," he breathed as the Careers revealed themselves, but he stood up with the aid of a stick, and attempted to scramble up a tree.

"Oh you're kidding," Marvel groaned, "Another bloody tree escape?"

"This one doesn't know what he's doing," Cato pointed out calmly, then raised his voice, "You can't climb very well, can you mate? Not so many trees in District 10?"

Clove rolled her eyes, sending a knife directly into the scrambling boy's trachea. He dropped from the small height he'd managed on the tree and died almost instantly.

"Show off," Cato had mumbled good-naturedly as Clove pulled out her well-placed knife, grinning at the blonde.

"Thanks Cato," Clove said without sarcasm, grin still in place, wiping the blood from her knife onto her jacket.

It would have seemed like a normal friendship, if they hadn't been talking about Clove's chosen method of murdering a fourteen year old boy.

Cashmere, who had clearly not been sleeping well of late, fell asleep as the four tributes ended up back at their camp, her head lolling over towards Enobaria's shoulder. Enobaria was clearly not comfortable with the arrangements, placing a pillow between herself and the blonde.

"What?" Enobaria asked as Gloss raised his eyebrows, "I don't care how much you like her, I don't want your sister drooling on me."

Gloss snorted, "You're kind of squeamish for someone who ripped out a boy's throat with their own teeth."

"Call me squeamish after I kill you and eat your heart," Enobaria's words were threatening, but she delivered them calmly and without menace as she scrolled through pages of possible sponsor gifts, "Ooh, a chest guard. Pricy much…"

The mentors watched in uneasy silence as Cashmere slept and the cameras and microphones placed in the arena picked up Katniss and Rue's plot to get rid of the food and supplies the careers possessed.

"They," Finnick said slowly, a smile dawning on his face, "Are onto something there."

"Shut up Finnick," snapped Enobaria, "Just because all your tributes are dead-"

"They couldn't," Brutus said dismissively, exuding all his usual arrogance, "No way will they get the food."

Gloss, however, frowned in concern, "I don't know. I've got a bad feeling about this."

Clove's mood, was now back at a very aggravated low. True, she had been temporarily cheered by the excitement of her kill, but now she was just as bad as when she first woke up from the stings. Asides from throwing knives into innocent animals, she was also picking fights with everyone, even Cato. Actually, especially Cato.

"I'm bored," she drawled, sitting down on the log next to a clearly uncomfortable Marvel, looking up at her district partner, who was fighting imaginary tributes with his sword.

"Would you like to go hunting again?" Cato asked sarcastically, and pointed out, "We've only just got back. You haven't even eaten," he shook his head in wonder as the District 3 boy, Ian, timidly handed him some food that he'd been instructed to fetch, "Are you so unhinged you can't go a few hours without a kill?"

"Typical," Clove snorted, "From someone who hasn't killed in days. Who was the last one? The girl from 8? And you didn't even get her properly… that was Peeta, who, by the way," Clove added, her voice getting progressively louder, "Is not even dead, when you said he should be!"

Cato's face was so frighteningly, blatantly livid that Marvel inched away from the District 2 girl, who the gaze was directed at, "Don't you even-"

"Ian!" Clove called in falsely sweet tones, standing up, "Can you please teach me the path to get the food?"

Ian frowned, "Why?"

Clove snorted, "Because you're sure as hell not going to be around forever mate, so you'd better teach me. And if you even think about giving me the wrong instructions so I blow sky high, Cato'll kill you in a second."

Cato, despite his obvious frustration with Clove, didn't bother to contradict her. It was far too early in the Games for his district partner to die, especially not in such a lame way. Imagine, 'the girl who was blown up'…

"Alright," Ian was clearly terrified of both the District 2 tributes, "Come on then. Now, you can tell where I've placed the mines by…"

"Clove!" Cato's voice interrupted the scrawny boy a few minutes later, when the two tributes were about halfway to the food, "I see a fire!"

Clove, who had been ignoring her district partner's previous attempts to get her attention, turned around at this, "Where?" a grin was back on her face.

Ian grabbed Clove's arm, pulling her back. She instinctively whipped out a knife.

"You were about to step on a mine," Ian pointed out, and Clove put her knife away, humbled.

She pointed in Cato's direction, the direction she wanted to go in, "Lead the way Bomb Boy."

Cato and Clove readied themselves together, counting and fighting over weapons, eating, packing snacks. Ian stood next to Marvel, who gave him the spear he was too scared to ask for, with a grunt of, "I don't mind you taking it. I don't need three, you know."

Ian thanked the boy who towered over him, and added, "I hate her."

"So do I," Marvel agreed fervently, and said for the second time, "She's a piece of work."

"I know," Ian held the spear limply by his side, "Have you heard my nickname?"

"Have you heard mine?" Marvel retaliated.

"Sparkles and Bomb Boy," Ian shook his head regretfully, "I should have let her step on the mine."

* * *

**There you go! I really liked this chapter, for whatever reason. I think it's because I got to write more of the career tributes. Next chapter will probably get around the same balance between mentors and tributes, then I'll have some more mentor-centric chapters. Which balance do you like more? Who do you like more of, and who do you like less of? I really will adapt it to suit you. **

**Also, tomorrow I'm going to the beach until the 22nd, and I won't be updating during that time, so sorry! Anyone who's reading my Haymitch story, 6 Kinds of Pain, another chapter will be up later today.**

**xx - L.**


	12. Chapter 12

**14. Seeing red.**

Enobaria didn't know whether to be mad at her tribute for not seeing that this fire was merely a distraction set up by Katniss Everdeen and her little ally or not. Would she, eighteen year old Enobaria, have fallen for it? Probably. She wondered whether even one of them was questioning it. It seemed that this year's careers were, as usual, a little too arrogant to be perfectly safe. Then again, when was anyone ever perfectly safe in the arena?

Brutus was mad already. No harm had yet been done, but the career tributes were not looking as smart in the eyes of their sponsors as they had been a few minutes ago. "That little bitch…" he muttered under his breath, as the cameras alternated between shots of Katniss, shots of Rue, and shots of Cato leading the other three away from the action, away from their food.

Gloss was less worried about Katniss Everdeen, and more worried about Marvel's deteriorating social status amongst the other career tributes. Bomb Boy didn't have long, that much was made clear by Cato's venomous looks in his direction, Clove's cruel jibes at his expense. And after poor Ian? If Clove and Cato did want to make the final two together, which was looking pretty correct at this point, why would they separate? It was clear that the next to go in this alliance would be Marvel, if he wasn't smart enough to get himself out in time.

Cashmere, who had been woken up by Brutus' previous screams of abuse at the television, was restless. She could tell that soon there would be death. She hoped, for her brother's sake, that it wouldn't be Marvel's. Gloss, like Cashmere, had changed during his time in the arena. While he wasn't quite as troubled as Cashmere, and still had some traces of his career mentality in him, Cashmere knew her brother would be upset.

"Cato, we're going too far north," Marvel pointed out, "We should be going west more. Towards the sun."

Cato, who did not like having his authority questioned, scowled, "Look Sparkles," Marvel winced as the brutish boy took on Clove's nickname for him, "I'm the leader here and I think I can follow a straight line."

Clove tactfully chose to wait a few moments to tell Cato quietly, "We should go more west."

"Are you sure?" Cato asked, shelving his pride.

"I'm sure," Clove swept some hair out of her face, keeping her voice low, "Sparkles was right, unfortunately."

"But don't we-"

"West Cato!" Clove hissed, trying to keep her voice down to spare Cato's wounded ego, "Or I'll tell Sparkles he can lead us."

"If I wasn't waiting for the final two," Cato warned, "I'd kill you now."

This tone, this facial expression, it would terrify anyone. Clove however, swept that persistent strand of raven hair out her eyes, and smiled, "I'd like to see you try Cato."

Following Marvel's suggested westward path, the careers quickly made it to their fire, which was, as the mentors already knew, abandoned. To the north, more smoke was winding its way into the sky.

"They've moved," Cato snarled, "Let's go."

Clove and Marvel, for all their bickering, exchanged a look of mutual exasperation. For all the direness of the situation, Gloss couldn't help but laugh, "They look so… done."

For all their apparent 'doneness,' Clove and Marvel jogged obediently behind Cato, Ian trailing behind on weak legs, his lack of training beginning to become apparent. Clove slowed down briefly for him. She didn't want Bomb Boy dead before she knew the path to the food.

"Don't you think," Ian began, pausing as he panted, "That this is a trap?"

Clove's dark eyebrows creased together as she considered this.

"Oh come on Clove, he's fucking right," Enobaria gritted her teeth, "Bomb Boy's fucking right! Get them back Clove. You might get back in time." On the screens, Katniss Everdeen had arrived at the career's pile of supplies, and was contemplating how to destroy it.

"Cato?" Clove called ahead, "Cato!"

Cato looked thoroughly aggravated to be interrupted, "This better be good Clove."

"Don't you," Clove paused. Despite her status of almost invincibility with Cato, for this point at least, a fit might be the end of that. She had to phrase her words carefully, "Think that this whole thing is pretty dodgy? No signs of a tribute at the last fire, not really. And now another one, just conveniently down that way," Clove bit her lip, "Could it be a-"

"It's not a trap Clove," Cato's voice was deadly serious, "It can't be a trap. Why would they ambush us? There are four of us. We're the best. Well, not Bomb Boy, but-"

"Cato," Clove's voice was grave, "There's no one with our supplies."

Something in Clove's tone, or perhaps in her facial expression, convinced the blonde.

"Back to the lake!" he roared, and the four tributes began running once more, this time with more speed and intensity.

Ian rolled his eyes, displeased with, but not surprised about, his lack of recognition for his idea.

The four tributes stumbled through the forest. Katniss Everdeen watched the girl from 5 dodge the mines. Brutus roared abuse at everyone and everything. Ian clutched a stitch in his side, and this time Clove didn't slow for him. The girl on fire readied her bow. Enobaria buried her face in her hands. And just like that, three arrows shot, seven apples tumbling from a canvas sack, there went the pyramid of supplies. The lifeline of the career tributes, the food, the weapons and the tools, all gone in a blast of fire.

Cato sprinted onto the plain a second too late - Katniss had only just concealed herself in a copse of bushes. Not even the cameras could zoom in on her now. In alarming synchronicity, Brutus and Cato both cracked.

Both Enobaria and Clove felt as though they would have laughed, if those men weren't so terrifying. Cato beat his fists on the ground as Brutus threw his glass at the wall, where it shattered into a hundred pieces. While Brutus swore for perhaps a minute without drawing breath, Cato ripped a chunk of blonde hair from his head. Enobaria placed her hands over her ears placidly. Ian declared all the mines activated, and turned white as he did so. Cato kicked the fragments of containers that had survived the explosion, almost kicking Marvel in his rage-induced blindness. Brutus kicked the wall, which had endured quite a beating now. In the final stages of their respective tantrums, Brutus snapped the remote in half and Cato grabbed Ian's head and destroyed his spinal cord in the same violent manner.

Brutus sat down after that, but Cato seemed to be gaining dangerous momentum. If Clove's invincibility was supposed to help out at any point, it was now, as Cato was officially murderous. More kills were not completely off the table.

"Cato," Clove began awkwardly, approaching the blonde with wary footsteps, "Cato, mate, there's nothing we can do about it now."

An arm, aimed for Clove's head, was dodged deftly.

"Get up mate, you look like an idiot," Clove gathered enough courage to lay a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Come on," she heaved him up, "At least whoever did this is dead. I'll hunt us some food. We'll be fine. Final two, you and me. Then it's on," she smiled at Cato, who was clearly not ready for smiles yet.

Another fist was swung in Clove's direction, and this time, she'd had enough. In the few seconds it took Cato to draw back his fist for another punch, a knife whirled past his head, drawing blood from his ear. Clove smiled to herself. She'd backed herself to make such a difficult shot and succeeded, only skimming Cato's scarred skin.

"It'll go through your eye next time, you hulking idiot," Clove folded her arms.

"Fuck off Clove," he grunted.

Clove shrugged, playing calm, "Sure thing Cato."

* * *

**I'm back! I'm also sleep deprived, so I'm sorry if this chapter isn't up to the usual standards. I felt like the transitions from mentors to tributes at the start were really clunky, but I didn't know how to fix them. If you have any advice, I'll definitely take it.**

**As for ****_6 Kinds of Pain, _****I haven't actually written the next chapter yet, (I had already roughly written this one out,) so it could really be up any time in the next few days - I'm meant to be training for my rowing camp *shudders.***

**I'll update both stories as soon as I can!**

**xx - L.**


	13. Chapter 13

**15. And then there were two.**

"Now I wonder Claudius," Caesar was saying in that god-awful irritating tone, "What will happen when this alliance realises that the culprit who destroyed their food is still alive?"

"Well Caesar," Claudius Templesmith tapped a manicured hand against one of his several chins, "I certainly hope for Clove and Marvel's sake there isn't another temper tantrum from our boy Cato!"

The two laughed jovially on the screen and Enobaria laughed mockingly from her position on the couch, "Oh wow, top quality humour right there," she scowled through her sarcastic words, "Go get a life."

Clips of Cato's previous mental breakdown were now playing, a separate, live camera showing Katniss Everdeen in the corner of the screen, still injured, still hiding. More Capitolite laughter. More growling from the District 2 mentors. Gloss, who for once was without his sister, who was 'entertaining Capitol clients,' sighed. Historically, the career alliance rarely had to bear the brunt of the commentator's jokes.

"In all seriousness though," Caesar was trying to sound sincere, but just sounded comical, "I'm a little worried for little Rue. She's alone in the woods, and this alliance will be out hunting soon. They're not as strong as they were at the start - no Annika, no Glimmer - but they're a lethal team, no matter how dysfunctional."

Claudius nodded gravely, "Yes. Now, we've spent a lot of time looking at these two tributes from District 2, who both scored a high 10 in training, but we've neglected to look at this boy here, Marvel Haddington," the cameras zoomed in. It was clear, without much action going on in the arena, that it was time for another tribute analysis. During these, a tribute's highlight reel was displayed, and talked about excessively by those commentators that the mentors hated so much.

"About time he was-" Gloss realised he was talking to the empty space where his sister had been, and turned around, "About time he was featured. No one looks at Marvel."

"Because he's not much to look at," Enobaria snapped, not looking up from her nails. She was sharpening them into spikes out of boredom, but in the inactivity, didn't seem to have lost any of her vindictiveness.

"We've noticed, during the course of the Games, that Marvel is smarter than we initially expected-" Caesar was saying animatedly, as clips of that awful tracker jacker fiasco played, Marvel leading his allies towards safety.

"I agree with Caesar," Enobaria contributed, "If you mean that Marvel's got the intelligence of a Neanderthal as a pose to that of an ape."

Gloss scowled. Trust Enobaria to ruin his tribute's moment in the spotlight. As Caesar spoke, however, sponsors were contributing to Marvel's cause. Gloss' scowl turned to a smile. Who cared what Enobaria thought? Not the sponsors. He hastened to tell Enobaria this, who did quiet down at that.

Eventually the sky darkened, and the music began to play. Enobaria frowned and rubbed her fingers against her temples as though she had a headache, not wanting the music she hated to permeate her mind once more. Ian's face was projected onto the sky. Cato wiped some food from the corner of her mouth, eyes fixed to the sky. Clove grinned as the District 10 boy's face appeared, "If it's Katniss…" But it wasn't Katniss. It wasn't anyone. The Capitol seal reappeared in the sky.

Brutus almost expected another display of Cato's serious anger management issues, but was pleasantly surprised. In an unspoken agreement, it was Cato and Clove who took the night-vision glasses they had secured at the Cornucopia. Marvel grimly wrapped some cloth around a tree branch, and set it alight.

The careers roamed the woods all night, and continued well on into the day, Cato and Clove in the lead and Marvel trailing behind. This was not for lack of strength or fitness, no, Marvel was simply quite done with the alliance he clearly wasn't a treasured part of.

Cashmere, who had returned from her horrific night, was talking to her brother in a low voice, "-and I promise you, it won't be long. Still, he seems smart enough. He knows that he'll have to get out of there, but I just hope he realises he'll need to scarper soon."

"He's definitely thinking about it," Gloss agreed, "The question is whether he gets himself out in time. Who knows what Cato and Clove are talking about? Clove could turn around right now and throw a knife into his throat."

"I wouldn't put it past her," Enobaria interrupted the conversation, "What do you make of this one?"

The cameras had flicked onto the girl from 5, Autumn or something. Everyone had assumed she'd be a bloodbath tribute, but this skinny girl had survived this far using her wit. Stealing food off the careers was one such use of her intellect, an act so bold that the grudging admiration the Capitolites felt gave her a few sponsors.

"Oh, it's a miracle she's survived this long," said Brutus dismissively, his arrogance still intact, despite the commentators briefly making fun of his tribute, "She'll be gone before Sparkles."

"Cash, you should really have a word to that stylist," Gloss told his sister, "She loves you."

"Why?" Cashmere asked, who had stopped properly following the conversation once Enobaria had joined.

"Because if one more person calls Marvel 'Sparkles'…" Gloss ran a hand through his closely cut hair, "I'll die."

As it turned out, Marvel did have enough sense in him to get out of the career alliance very soon. On top of that, he was smart enough to get out without being killed. Marvel walked slower and slower as the two from District 2 picked up speed, the anticipation of a kill getting their blood pumping. And eventually, he had enough distance on the duo to simply bolt.

Gloss shrugged as Enobaria and Brutus sat up straighter, assessing their tributes' responses to this, "Well that's one way of doing it."

"Pretty smart actually," Enobaria said, her tone angry, as Cato looked from his spear to the quickly disappearing Marvel, "Clove can't throw as far as the boys can spear. And Marvel can throw a spear further than Cato. Marvel can kill from the farthest away. They're not going to chase him."

Clove seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Enobaria, but Cato clearly hadn't thought it through yet.

"Clove, let's go!" Cato said excitedly, "Let's just hunt him down now and kill him!"

"Cato," Clove said slowly and clearly, "Marvel will be expecting that. He knows you'd want to hunt him down. That's why he got out the way he did. He could ambush us easier. Out of all of us, he can kill from the farthest distance."

Cato continued to look mad, "I'm better than him Clove. You scored better than him too! Together, we'd-"

"Cato, how would you like to be killed by a boy who wore pink sparkles in the chariot ride?" Clove asked impatiently.

Cato lowered his spear, and Clove smiled.

"That's the spirit," she said in mock cheer, "Let someone else take care of him."

And so Clove and Cato, though mad about Marvel's safe escape, continued to trek in the same direction, up a hill. Marvel however, a safe half-kilometre away, walked along the gully, looking around warily as he did so.

"Heck yes, he's out of there," Gloss celebrated, "I mean, there were cooler ways of doing it. He could have killed one of them. But I suppose this works."

"Whatever," Brutus grumbled, "He can run now, but he won't survive. If I weren't a mentor, I'd put all my money on Clove and Cato, final two."

Brutus, though his bet never to be placed was not correct, was partially right. Marvel did not survive long outside of the alliance. Thirty-four minutes to be exact. Eleven seconds after his first independent kill.

"Shit," breathed Gloss as Katniss burst from the trees into the clearing where Marvel had speared the tiny little Rue, trapped in a net of his own creation.

It took the brunette perhaps half a second to release the arrow. There was no question as to its destination.

"Not a pretty way to go," Enobaria commented casually, as Marvel yanked the arrow from his neck, "But at least his face isn't swollen."

Neither of the District 1 mentors had enough energy to even glare at their antagonist.

"Whatever Enobaria," Cashmere sighed, standing up, "Come on Gloss."

* * *

**This is a chapter that I liked writing, so I hope you enjoy reading it. It might be a little while until I put up a new chapter - I've got a rowing camp coming up immediately followed by my starting back at school *cries* and just general business. I will try my best though :) I shouldn't complain too much, but I didn't get many reviews last chapter, so I'd doubly appreciate it this time! They generally make it easier for me to write the next chapter because I have more motivation or something... I don't know. Anyway, no pressure! I'm getting whiny.**

**xx - L.**


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